


My Rosebud Boy

by Star4545



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, M/M, mage's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star4545/pseuds/Star4545
Summary: A brief divergence from the plot of Carry On to tell the story through the eyes of the Mage through his battle with grief and guilt.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	My Rosebud Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't all the events of Carry On. A lot of this plot is fictional, but does talk about the battle in the White Chapel. This fic is in no way to erase the bad things the Mage has done, but offers a perspective of a man caught in a spiral of lies. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Whenever I think about giving Simon away, I feel pain in my chest. I know it's what I have to do, but I still feel bad. I still feel like I should keep him as my own, raise him in honor of Lucy. I know I can't. He can't know what I'm going to do. He can't be here in case something goes wrong. He has to be sheltered and I know I'll find him again someday. I take the Sharpie and write on his arm "Simon Snow" and leave him on the doorstep of the boys’ home. I take a deep breath as I walk away. I wipe a few stray tears from my eyes.

Over the years, I check in on him using magic to disguise myself. I make sure he is doing alright, not getting bullied too much and not fighting back (he never does, just lets the bullies pick on him). There are so many times when I walk in and want to take him back with me. I would tell him the truth and apologize. He would get over it and we would be a perfect family. But I kept reminding myself of the plan. He would be mine once he was old enough to go to Watford. He would be my son again soon.

When the time finally comes, I go to the orphanage he is staying at. He looks thin and he flinches away from me when I walk into a smoky room. He looks scared.

I kneel down to him and say, "Simon, right?" He nods. "Hi, I'm going to take you away from here." His eyes widen. I can't tell if he is happy or sad. I desperately want to say to him that I'm his father, but I don't. "I'm going to tell you something and you have to believe me. Okay?" He nods again. "You are a magician. You have magic coursing through your veins. I'm going to take you to a school to help you foster your magic."

"Like Harry Potter?"

"Who?" Simon's mouth gapes open.

"You don't know Harry Potter?"

"No."

"It's a book series. They've made movies now too. Wizard boy goes to magic school and has to fight all these creatures and Voldemort."

"Well it's not like that at all. Watford is completely safe. You won't have to fight anything. You are going there to learn. I'll be your mentor. In return, you help me on missions."

"Missions?"

"It doesn't matter right now. Gather your stuff and we'll be off to Watford." Simon stands up. He's tall for his age.

"Ready,” he says.

"You don't have anything?"

"Been here since I was a baby, sir. Don't have squat."

I led him outside into a car. He seems surprised.

"You don't teleport or fly on brooms?"

"This isn't a book, Simon."

By the time we get to Watford, students are already arriving. I walk Simon up to his room. He looks at the uniform and pajamas excitedly.

"There is some school supplies and your books on your desk. I'll work on getting you some clothes." Simon smiles at me. It's a wonderful smile. It's Lucy's smile. He radiates so much of her energy. Crowely, I miss her.

"Thank you, sir."

"You'll meet your roommate soon. We have to go to Front Lawn for the ceremony."

A week into the semester, I hear a knock on my door.

"Come in," I say. Simon enters wearing his Watford uniform. He looks much healthier. There is color to his face now. "Oh Simon, how are you?"

"I want to change my roommate."

"And why is this?"

"My roommate is a bloody pretentious arsehole." He says, slumping in the chair across from my desk. "He hates me, and I hate him. Please switch me."

"I'm sorry, Simon. I can't do that. The Crucible puts people together for a reason. Trust me, I wouldn't have you rooming with him. Remember what I told you about the Pitches?" Simon nods. I hate not giving him his way. I hate that every day he has to interact with him, but roommates are not in my hands. Him being roommates with the Pitch boy brings him way closer to knowing my secret. I don’t like what I did, but it needed to be done. Watford is better now and will continue to be better once the Humdrum is eradicated.

The thing that hurts me the most as a father is training Simon. I hate training him to be a soldier to fight the Humdrum, but it's a threat that presents itself and Simon needs to know how to fight. He is a very hardworking boy and doesn't stop until every flip of the sword is correct. His spell casting isn't strong, but his skills with a sword are like clockwork. Over the years, I see him become more ragged; with every creature we kill, with all the negative interactions with Basilton, with his failing schoolwork based on his spell casting. He can't seem to have a break. I find myself wanting to reassure him and stop working him so hard, but I can't. He has so much potential that needs to be tapped into.

By sixth year, Simon is exhausted, and I don't know how to help him. So, I keep sending him on missions. I keep on pushing him and I keep the truth to myself. It's too late now to break this to him.

The end of seventh year brings a crying Simon into my office. He looks like a bloody mess. His hair is sticking to his face from sweat and there is a huge cut down his face. It tugs at my heartstrings.

"Agatha broke up with me. I just got back from a weeklong mission, the Humdrum gobbled me up and spat in the middle of fucking nowhere with Penny, and Agatha was there in the Wavering Wood with Baz. I saw her. She broke up with me right there in front of bloody everyone." I'm stuck there in silence, unsure of how to approach this, so I let him cry it out.

"Why can't anyone love me?" He asks. "My parents gave me up, Agatha said I didn't pay enough attention to her, Penelope probably thinks I'm a burden as I keep putting her in near death situations, and don't even get me started about Baz." I have never wanted to tell him the truth more than I did in that moment. He looks at me with big watery eyes. "Do you care for me?"

"Of course, I do, Simon." More than he could possibly imagine. "That's why I work you so hard. Speaking of, show me the new technique you are working on." He gets up, weakly summoning the Sword of Mages, and tiredly shows me his technique. He slumps down tiredly in a chair, letting the sword disappear.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do it right now. I’m exhausted.” Normally, I would fight him. I would make him get up and show me it. The cut on his face is gushing blood and he can barely keep his red eyes open. I take out my wand as I walk toward him. I kneel down in front of him, gently taking his face in my hands, and start casting healing spells. He barely bats an eyelash, the poor bloke’s knackered. I’ve never been this close to him; he looks so much like Lucy. It’s all hers: the hair, the eyes, the freckles, even the attitude.

"I don't even know if I'm into girls." He says as I release his face. I stand up and go back to my desk.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I'm gay. I was never really interested in Agatha that way, if you know what I mean." He looks up at me. "Is that okay?" It wasn't in my plan for the Chosen One. The only bad thing about that is no one to spread the genes to, but I don't really mind.

"It's more than okay." Simon nods.

"That's good." 

“Simon, you never have to be afraid of who you are with me. I’ll accept you no matter who you are.” I pause, trying to figure out what to say. “You are like a son to me.” His face brightens, whatever sadness there has left. If only I could tell him the real truth. “Am I overworking you?”

“No, sir” he says, even though I know the truth.

“Good, good.”

“Sir,”

“Yes.”

“I… I… No… um… I was just wondering if maybe this summer I could come home with you instead of the care homes.” Again, I feel a tugging at my heart strings.

He’s never openly asked to come home with me for summer holidays. He would always talk about it in a roundabout way; how much he hated the care homes and his commute back to Watford. But it’s all too close. I feel bad when I send him away for the summers, but he can't come live with me. My house is small, and I think living in the boys’ homes keeps him grounded. He never seems especially happy to leave, but I think he'll realize the importance of it one day. Over the winter holidays, he always asks to come with me, but I normally am extremely busy, so I leave him to his own devices. He always seems to enjoy the empty campus.

I could barely find it within myself to get close to him and cast healing spells. I want to get close to him, he’s my son for Crowely’s sake, but it hurts every time I’m soft with him. Lucy would love him; she would be able to be all soft with him.

“Simon, you know I can’t-“

“Please.” He’s right begging now. “You said I’m like your son.”

“Begging doesn’t suit you. You need to keep yourself close to language. Your spellcasting is abominable for a seventh year, you would fail without your summers there. If you had any compliant, you should’ve brought it up sooner, but it’s too late now.” He looks angry. I shouldn’t’ve said those things. “I’m sorry, Simon. I’m just very stressed right now.”

“No, sir, I was out of line. I played an unfair card.” He stands up, equal parts sad and angry. All the happiness once in his face drained.

By the beginning of eighth year, Simon comes into my office. He doesn't meet my eyes.

"How are things?" I ask.

“Fine,” he says unconvincingly.

“What’s happening? How is Penelope?” I don’t really care. Her family is hiding something. While Premel is one of my best men and Penelope is Simon’s best friend, I have to keep digging even if it hurts someone who used to be my friend.

“Remember last term when you said that I don’t have to be afraid while I’m here… well, I need to tell you something that you aren’t going to like.” My heart rate speeds up. I keep thinking of all the loose ends that I’ve left. Did he figure something out? "I think I'm in love with Baz." Thankfully, he is as oblivious as ever.

"Pitch?" Simon nods. "Oh, Simon, no." This is where my plans go down the drain. They are going to figure me out, I just know it. I should be happy that my son is in love, I was happy when he started dating Agatha. I like her family; they aren’t hiding anything. Even if this is true love, I can’t find myself to be completely happy with the fact. I’m perfectly fine with Simon being gay (at the beginning of term, he said he had a think-over and decided that he is gay), but why does it have to be with a Pitch. Why does it have to _Basiltion?_ Bloody Numpties didn’t even kill him.

"Are you two dating?" I ask. He shakes his head. I let myself breath for a moment.

"I don't even think he’s gay."

"Have you asked?"

"Oh yeah, ask the roommate that hates me if he's gay like that will go well."

"Simon-"

"I just don't know what to do. I know he is the enemy, but we've been getting along especially after the dragon attack. Is it wrong to have hope? Is it wrong that I want him? Why am I even telling you this?" This really wasn't in my plan.

"Nothing is wrong, Simon." He looks at me, his eyes wide. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, I’m in no place to judge. If you love him-“ I take a deep breath, this will be hard to say. “- go for it. It’s the least you can do. If I know anything about you is that you don’t do anything half-assed. If you like him, tell him because you never know when it will be too late.”

"Do you have anyone in your life?" He asks me.

"I did. She died in childbirth."

"I'm sorry." Simon’s always been very empathic, this situation is no different. "What was she like?" 

"Wonderful. She cared for every living thing and brought light into everyone's life. She always believed in me. We met at Watford. We were best friends with your friend Penelope's mother. "

"Did the child survive?" Simon asked.

"What?"

"You said she died in childbirth. Did the baby survive?" This is the perfect time to confess, but I can't find it within myself to say the words. I take the easy way out.

"No. He died."

"What was his name?" Simon asks.

"Oliver," I lie. Lucy always wanted his middle name to be Oliver. I wanted something alliterative.

"I'm so sorry." He says. "Do you miss her?"

"Always."

"Do you miss your son?"

"More than you could ever imagine." I feel tears start to well in my eyes. "Well, unless you want to practice your magic, please leave. I have a lot of work to do."

Simon leaves and I allow myself to cry. I open my desk drawer and find the only two pictures I keep in my desk: one of a pregnant Lucy and the other of Simon before I sent him away. For a minute, one single minute, I allow my fantasy of a different life to arise in my mind; us in my cottage, all spending time together maybe baking or doing puzzles (something entirely too mundane for us three). We would be happy. I wouldn’t have to think of myself as a failure. I wouldn’t have to have an angel on my shoulder telling me to love Simon and a devil jealous of his power. I will it away. I have more important business to set out on.

I find him in my office again right before winter holidays. As per tradition, I expect him to ask me whether he can come with me, but he instead states: “I’m going to Pitch Manor for holiday.”

“You are?”

“I’m going to confess to Baz that I like him. He doesn’t know that I’m coming because I don’t know if I’ll have the courage, but I want to. I really want to.”

“I’m proud of you, Simon.” He beams.

And then there’s now. Simon must be on his way by now. There is no way he didn’t hear about me arresting Ebb. We’re fighting in the White Chapel. She’s a strong fighter, but her resolve is melting.

“What happened to you, Davy?” She asks. We are just a few years apart; she knew me when I was young. “Why do you need my magic?”

“I told you. I need to fight the Humdrum and the Old Families.”

“That’s Simon’s job.”

“Simon isn’t right.”

“Why do you say that? The boy has worked tirelessly to be who you want him to be. Can’t you see how broken he is? He barely loves himself and now you are saying he’s wrong for the job after eight years of doing this because he had to. Do you think he wants to kill? Do you think he wants to go off and have to fight himself? Just because you couldn’t find it in yourself to raise him as your own doesn’t mean you have the right to hurt him. I have cared for him; I’ve cleaned him up after a mission, held his hand as he cried, gave him advice. All you did was train him, hurt him, lie to him. He’s such a smart boy and yet you bring him down. Maybe the birth rites you used caused his magic to be finicky. It’s not him.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Come off it, Davy. It’s so simple. You killed Natasha Pitch, you killed Lucy Salisbury, and you are going to kill me. Who’s next? Simon? Mitali?”

“I didn’t kill Lucy.”

“But those birth rites did.”

“And I would never kill Simon.”

“But you would strip him of his magic as a plan b to all this. I die and then you try to leech off him. He is your son.”

“Stop pretending to be his parent.”

“I was more of a parent than you were.”

I stab her, she falls to the floor. Another one bites the dust. I start to cast Bohemian Rhapsody. I hear a gasp and there’s Simon, my boy, with his sword out and a ridiculous wing and tail pair. Of course, he would fly here, the unpredictable maniac he is. He looks dashing in a gray suit. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, urging to tell me something, but then he sees Ebb and rushes to her. I’m jealous that he barely registers that I’m hurt as well. He’s crying. I should’ve known he would be too soft to be the Chosen One. He’s filled with all the traits I never possessed. After a few minutes, he finally realizes that I’m hurt as well. Then, just like that, without saying a spell, it’s healed. I don’t know why it doesn’t work for Ebb.

I step closer to Simon, touching his face like I once did after a mission of his to heal him. He doesn’t look scared, but he should be. The anger is still blustering inside me; all the guilt from the things I’ve done, but I’m not sorry. I know Simon needs me to do this for him. He isn’t the Chosen One. He isn’t good enough to be one. No matter how hard it is to admit that to myself; Simon isn’t perfect. So, I have to do this. I could tell him right here the secret I’ve hid from him; I have him right in my grasp. But now isn’t the time for confessions, it’s time to fight.

The words come out of me like venom. I say harsh things, nothing that a father should say to his son. He looks at me with this big doe eyes, so similar to Lucy’s, yet I know he isn’t innocent like her. He kept his composure even though I know he is breaking inside. He starts to give me his magic, it flows into me. It hurts but it’s so familiar. It’s Lucy’s magic, an abundance of it, it’s all there. The familiar feeling of sunshine creaks in my bones.

The Humdrum appears out of nowhere. It’s Simon as a young boy, the day I found him, all big eyed and scared. He was so, so naive and so, so small. I want to put my arms around him and- No, this is all I’ve wanted, and I wouldn’t change it. I disastrously murmur, “My boy.” I don’t mean to say it, but it comes out of me as a paternal instinct. The Humdrum just sneers at me.

Then Simon does something unpredictable. He starts giving his magic to the Humdrum. I’m shouting at him, throwing around a horrendous mix of Normal and Mage curses. Simon doesn’t stop. Simon never does anything without putting his all in, giving away his magic and saving the World of Mages would be no different. Anger is rising in my body, but it all goes away as the Humdrum fades and Simon drops to the ground.

“Give it to me. This is no way to treat your father.” I’m lying on top of Simon and he abruptly pushes me off.

“You aren’t my father. My father would never do this.”

“Simon I’ve been hiding something from you-“ I’m interrupted by the Pitch boy, snarling at me with fangs trying to kill me. Simon looks crazed trying to pull us apart.

“Let him speak, Baz.” Basilton stands down. I still want the magic, but there is no turning back from this.

“Simon, I’ve kept this from you because I’m a coward. I’m a no-good man. A power hungry, terrible man. Remember when I told you about my lover and the child named Oliver?” Simon nods. “His name wasn’t Oliver. The baby’s name was Simon. You’re my son, Simon. I gave you up and it was the hardest decision I ever had to make. There wasn’t a day when I didn’t think about getting you from that boy’s home. I would check in on you every so often. I would see you getting hurt and I did nothing. I could never find myself going against the plan. I’ve wanted to tell you this for so long, but every time I did… I couldn’t find myself able to.” Basilton scoffs. I can see why Simon hates him. I can’t tell whether or not Simon wants to hurt me. Sadly, I still want to try and pry the magic out of him even though I know there is nothing left. There is no charged energy. There is a heavy silence in the room. Basilton is on edge, waiting for my next move. Penelope Bunce is by the window, ready for a fight that I don’t want to have. I just want Simon to say something.

“You’re my father and you didn’t tell me?” He doesn’t give me time to respond. “You mentored me for years. You’ve caused me to go on life threatening missions, made me work until I was dead on my feet. You’ve listened to me cry about my feelings of worthlessness from not having parents and there you were. Now you’re trying to take away my bloody magic. Fuck you.” Basilton brings him into a hug. “You killed Natasha Grimm-Pitch and you killed Ebb. How dare you kill two innocent people?”

“Natasha was far from innocent.” I’ve known I said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Basilton releases Simon and looks at me like he is ready to pounce. “Ebb wasn’t having my way.”

“Of course, she wasn’t, you’re bloody insane,” Simon says. I start to inch my way toward Simon. He steps back, obviously scared of me.

“Simon, this doesn’t have to be bloody. Just give me the magic.”

“It’s all gone.” I’m in his space now, my hands on his shoulders. As he says this, realization hits his face. “Fucking hell, it’s all gone.” Another beat. “Fucking hell, you’re my father. I can’t do this.”

“It can’t be all gone,” I say. “You’re limitless.”

“Not anymore.” It’s just like Lucy after she had Simon, empty. I want to say something rude, yell at him till the cows come home. Basilton is over by Penelope, probably planning a way to get me arrested or killed. The room is charged with anticipation about what will happen next.

“You were never a very good Chosen One. Too soft to kill and not let it affect you.”

“Stop.” I push him albeit harder than I meant to, and he ends up on the ground.

“You’re a whiny brat.”

“I told you to stop.”

“Those care homes were supposed to ground you, but you are too high on your mighty horse.”

“Shut up.”

“Just because you have a lot of magic doesn’t make your actions not have consequences.”

“I know that.” He gets up, but I push him back down, pointing my wand at him. “What do you want?”

“Your magic.”

“It’s gone! It’s over,” he yells.

“Is it though?”

I start to cast a spell to harm him, but another source of magic hits me first. I was so high in my head I didn’t hear counter spells being thrown at me. I fall to the ground and everything goes dim. I died hurting my son, my rosebud boy. He’ll never know how much I loved him because in my last few moments I threatened him. Lucy would hate me for this. While I regret nothing I did, I wish I didn’t act like that towards him. Maybe in twenty years when the Veil lifts again, I’ll be able to apologize for my actions and maybe he’ll forgive me.


End file.
